


In It To Play

by fenfyre (Jace)



Series: The very Fabric of our Universe [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternative Universe - Rock Stars, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Hitchhiker!Marco, Hitchhiking, M/M, Marco's sister being a tattletale, Pining, Rockstar!Jean, motel sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 07:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4597632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jace/pseuds/fenfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco didn't hitchhike. He also didn't fall for famous, charismatic rockstars. Except for when he does.</p><p>Or, in other words:<br/>"I was hitchhiking and you picked me up and WHOOPS YOU’RE A FAMOUS ROCKSTAR" - an AU inspired by tumblr</p>
            </blockquote>





	In It To Play

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my tumblr: [fenfyre](http://fenfyre.tumblr.com/)

Marco had been walking for about an hour without a single car even so much as passing him when he finally heard the roar of a motor in the distance. He swiveled around, watching out for the source of the noise while shielding his eyes against the low sun. There it was, a small black dot on the horizon that got bigger as it approached him through the endless grainfields. When it was even closer he recognized some classic model in deep red.  
With the way it was speeding Marco doubted the driver would see him early enough to even consider stopping but he had to try. Another hour or two of walking like this and it would be dark. He was so not ready for that.  
Marco raised onto his toes, one arm waving to catch the driver's attention as he put on his most brilliant smile. Mina once told him he looked cute smiling like that, looking cute and being polite couldn't hurt.

The car didn't slow down, though. There was a second in which Marco's smile slipped and he was sure it would pass him and he'd have to shuffle through the darkness very soon. But then the driver braked hard, car slipping a little on the gravel of the road and raising a cloud of dry dust as it came to a stop not far behind Marco.  
The smile found it's way back onto his face as he jogged over, waving away the swirling dust and coughing. He leaned down to the window when he found it open, trying hard not to gawk at the fancy upholstery and brand new stereo blasting something with an impressively vibrating bass line.  
“You need a ride, handsome?”, the driver asked in a low drawl as he reached for his sunglasses, shoving them carelessly up into messy, blond hair. His grin was crooked and easy, somehow familiar and Marco found himself nodding.  
“Yes. Just to the next best city, or gas station, really.”  
“No problem, hop in.”

It was only when Marco had fastened his seat belt and they were driving again that he did a double take. He knew that distinct hairstyle from somewhere, that blond mess that was close shaven and darker underneath. He also knew that casual grin.  
“So, what's your name?” ...and that voice. Definitely that voice.  
“Holy shit, you're Jean Kirschtein!” God, of course he was! Marco had heard that voice a million times, blasted from Alessia's room or lately more often on the radio, seen that grin on countless posters on her walls or in the latest music videos she showed him, full of enthusiasm and giddy joy.  
“Uh, yeah. What about it?” The man beside him shrugged, reaching up to adjust the rear-view mirror so the sun wasn't thrown directly into his eyes anymore. Marco just gaped at the way he relaxed back into the seat so casually.  
“I … my sister's never gonna believe me when I tell her. She loves A 104 Reasons!”

Love wasn't even strong enough a word to describe Alessia's utter obsession with the rockband. She had been a fan since they started making music. Especially crazy for lead singer Jean Kirschtein, worshiping him with a passion only a fifteen year old girl could have for her idol.  
Even Marco had to admit there was something about that man, with his exorbitant good looks, husky voice and heaps of charisma that had to be at least half the reason the band got so popular during the last year.  
From up close it was even worse. He wasn't even doing anything, just sitting there steering the car with an air of confidence and he had Marco breathless. Or maybe it was the knowledge that this was a goddamn rockstar. Close enough to touch, if you will. Marco never met a famous person before – that one time he talked to their mayor didn't count – and here he was now, sitting in Jean Kirschtein's car.  
  
“Really? That's cool. Oh, I'll give you an autograph later. She'll have to believe you then, right?”  
“I … guess?” Oh, Marco was so not ready for this.  
“Or wait … here, dial her number...”, Jean said, reaching for a phone on the dashboard, unlocking the screen without even looking at it and shoving it towards Marco, then turning down the volume of his stereo.  
“...what?”  
“Dial her number”, the man repeated, glancing over with that grin. “We'll call her right now. Uh, you can still get that autograph, if you want.”

“Oh … okay.” Marco wasn't sure if it was the best idea to send his sister right into a heart attack but typed in the digits anyway. That was … a really nice thing to do. He shouldn't decline that kind of offer.  
“Okay, put it on loudspeaker and let me do the talking for now. What's her name?” Jean grabbed the phone from his hands, shooting him another questioning glance as they both listened to the dial tone.  
“Alessia”, he answered. It only took her a few moments to pick up.  
  
“Uhh … yes?” She sounded irritated, probably from the unknown caller ID. If the ID even showed, it made more sense that it didn't...  
“Heeey Alessia! It's Jean. I'm here with your brother … shit dude, you didn't even tell me your name!” He sounded so carefree, like he called his fans every day to check on them. He also had no problem steering with one hand only, holding the phone up to his mouth with the other. They were still driving perfectly save, maybe having slowed down a little.  
“M-marco”, he stuttered out and Jean fell right back into his cheerful chatting.  
“With your brother Marco. Just picked him up on the highway, the poor lost boy, and he told me you like our stuff and that's so cool. You're cool, Alessia!” His easy grin had softened a bit into a smile, eyes on the horizon as they waited for her to answer.  
“Wha-what? Is this … a joke or something?” Marco could tell by her wavering voice that she was so close to screaming. Of course she recognized that voice. He took over when Jean held the phone closer to him.  
  
“No, Alli, not a joke. Marco here. Jean Kirschtein picked me up, it's true. I'm sitting right next to him, can you believe that? He said he'll give me an autograph for you.”  
“Whaaat?” Her voice was already pitching dangerously high as Jean pulled the phone back toward himself.  
“Yep, will do. Any special requests or is 'for the cutest girl on earth' okay? If you are anything like your brother...” Jean's eyes flicked over to him at that, one eyebrow raised up as he gave a playful wink. “...that might even be an understatement.”  
There was a short shriek followed by a soft slap as Alessia shoved one hand over her mouth to muffle the noise in embarrassment. Marco could practically see it, her deep blush, kicking feet, eyes screwed shut and hands trembling... Then she must have gotten herself together enough to mumble a nervous reply.  
  
“Y-yes that's … gosh, thank you so so much … that's … I-i really love … love your first album. Brokenwingsmakesmecryeverytime!” Marco could barely make out the last sentence but Jean seemed to understand her just fine. His smile even got a tad softer as he nodded.  
“Yeah, I get that. I cried when I wrote it, you knew that?”  
“I … n-no?”  
“Well, it's true. I'm a sap, Alessia. I'm hopeless.” It sounded a little sarcastic but Marco didn't doubt for a second that Jean was telling the truth. The song Broken Wings was one of their lesser known ones, not even a single. But it might just be the most emotional song 104 Reasons recoded until now. Jean sounded on the verge of tears while singing, it made even Marco choke up whenever he heard it.

“Oh god you're … you'resocute!”, Alessia shrieked, coaxing a laugh out of Jean.  
“Thank you, I bet you're too. Cutest girl on earth, remember?” That made her giggle again, high and nervous. “So, I'll hang up now. Phoning while driving is not good, never do that. I'm a terrible role model.”  
“No you're not!”, she shrieked in protest.  
“Heh, thanks for lying to me. Even though lying is bad. Drugs are bad, too. Hell, I don't do 'em and I'm a rockstar! Don't do drugs. And stay in school. And, oh...” Jean looked over to Marco again, grin back in place. “Listen to your brother, he seems like a cool dude.” That wink again.  
“He … he is! Thank you so much for calling! I love you!”  
“Heh, love you too, little lady. Bye-bye!”  
“Bye Jean!” It was the last shriek they heard before the connection was lost.

Marco couldn't do anything but stare for a while. He watched Jean throw the phone back onto the dashboard and turn to the road again. It was still stretching out before them, straight and forever, never anything else than those grainfields. That … had actually just happened.  
“Dude, your sister sounds adorable. How old is she? Fourteen?”  
“Fifteen”, Marco corrected automatically, brain still empty.  
They were silent for a while, the only sounds coming from the stereo that was playing some sort of slow song now, again with a really nice bass line. It sounded … sexy.  
  
“Okay Marco, two options”, Jean declared after a while and pointed toward a sign that was slowly approaching. “One: We keep driving and I drop you off whenever, your call. Two: We stop for the night at that motel a few miles away. 'Cause you're all kinds of cute and I really want you between my legs right now. But it's your decision, really.”  
Marco felt like all the blood in his body was rushing to his face all at once as he stared at the other man, mouth open and eyes wide. Then his blood decided, in a matter of seconds, that it was needed elsewhere and started migrating south. There was nothing left for his brain to actually consider his options but he didn't really need to.  
Not when it was Jean Kirschtein next to him in the driver's seat, who was hot and funny and kind enough to just call a random fan like that, who winked again at him invitingly but without pressure, who looked just heavenly in the orange light of the setting sun...  
Marco's mouth was incredibly dry when he finally managed to rasp:  
“Number two, please...”  
  
  
Marco's back hit the closed door with a thunk when Jean shoved him against it as soon as they where inside and those plump lips found his again. The way Jean kissed was intense, uncompromising and so very passionate, changing the pace quickly and with ease. One second he was softly nibbling at Marco's lower lip, sucking gently and flicking his tongue out teasingly, the next he was practically devouring Marco with harsh bites and deep licks into his mouth.

It was all so overwhelming, happened so quickly, Marco didn't even know what to do. He tried reciprocating the kiss as best as he could, lips moving hesitantly against Jean's while he tried to grab onto something, anything for purchase.  
His hands ended up fisted in the loose, black shirt the other man wore, pulling their bodies closer together. There was a deep moan vibrating against his lips at that, Jean molding his lean, perfect, gorgeous body into Marco's and twisting one hand into his hair, the other resting against his side.

They parted with a soft noise, Jean leaning his forehead against Marco's as he grinned.  
"God, look at you. How're you so cute?"

"I...", Marco tried to answer, even though he didn't know what, but his mouth was way too dry. So he just continued staring at that god before him, eyes wide, shaking his head slightly in disbelief. Jean pressed another quick kiss to his lips before pulling away, captivating Marco's slipping hands as he did.  
"Hey, it's okay. No need to be nervous." Yeah, said Jean fucking Kirschtein, goddamn rockstar and overall perfect person. Obviously he hadn't been nervous even once his life or he'd know how impossible calming down was for Marco right now. "You don't have to ... deliver, or anything", Jean added in that husky voice that went straight to Marco's dick. He was taking some steps backwards now, pulling Marco with him as he slowly but insistently headed for the bed. "I just want you to have a good time."

Of course he did. Jean Kirschtein didn't just fuck groupies to get off himself, - besides, Marco was hardly a groupie anyway - no, he wanted his partners to feel good. Fucking perfect.  
This was well intended, as he could tell by the honest smile on that handsome face, but didn't exactly ease the pressure on Marco. At all. God, why did he even agree to this?  
"I-i...", he tried again but without success. What did one even say to that? Thank you? But then, that man could've kicked him in the balls right now and Marco'd have thanked him.  
They were barely across the room when Jean stopped, reaching up to rub Marco's shoulders. All the while smiling and biting his pretty, flushed lips.  
"Okay, you really need to relax. Let me suck you off."

"What..." Marco tried to stop him but it was to late. The other man was already sinking to his knees then and there, unbuckling Marco's belt and opening his pants with swift, precise movements. Jean looked up once again, through gorgeous blond lashes, that teasing grin on his face again as he slowly palmed the outline of Marco's half-hard dick, and murmured:  
"If you need me to stop, just tell me." He waited, actually waited, with his hands on Marco's junk, for him to nod. Then, all bets were off.  
Jean pulled the briefs down without hesitation and began mouthing at the dick that had been hidden underneath. Marco's knees buckled slightly at that and he couldn't stop a keen from escaping. That hot mouth felt just perfect on him, again with the soft nibbling and quick little licks. It got more intense way too quickly when Jean leaned forward to swallow the whole thing in one go.  
Marco keened again at that, hands scrabbling for purchase and finding their way into messy blond. Absentmindedly he tugged on it, trying to ground himself somehow, and felt the answering hum of a moan right against his cock.

It quickly grew too large for Jean to keep it completely in his mouth, so he pulled off with a wet pop and gave the tip a slow lick before blinking up at Marco again.  
"Hmm, tastes so good", he hummed, fluttering his lashes, before ducking down again. Marco didn't even really know what happened after that. The only thing he was sure about was that it could be summed up under _Best Blow-Job of his Life_.  
Jean switched skillfully between teasing licks and wet, open mouthed kisses, to swiping his tongue over hot flesh in long, broad stripes and then again swallowing as much as he could while working the rest with his spit-slick hand.  
Of course it didn't take long for Marco to get dangerously close to coming and he somehow managed to signal as much before Jean could suck the orgasm right out of him. Not that he was opposed to that idea, god no. But he was also sure the other man had some more plans in mind and didn't dare to disappoint.

Jean slid up his body again, winding his arms around Marco's neck and leaning up to kiss him, slow and wet and deep. Marco could taste himself on Jean's hot tongue, the lingering musk and sweet pang of precome clinging to those lips. It made his dick even harder.  
"Feeling better?", Jean practically purred as they parted, nuzzling into his neck to press tiny kisses into his skin. The crazy thing was, Marco actually did. He felt his shoulders sag, able to relax into the embrace way more than before, knees weak but not trembling with nerves anymore.  
"Yes...", he breathed in answer, burying his nose into soft hair. It smelled of the forest, wood and the sharp note of campfire smoke. "Thank you."  
"You can thank me by taking your shirt off. You're illegally overdressed, you know that?" Marco chuckled at that line but took a step back to reach for the collar of his shirt and pull it off over his head with one practiced move.  
When he looked up again Jean was grinning and biting his lip.  
  
"You have no idea...", the man rasped, eyelids lowering into an intense smolder that made Marco's heart skip a beat or two. "No. Idea. How much I wanna ride you right now."  
Marco had barely time to whimper at that before Jean was all over him again.  
  
Minutes later Marco found himself on the bed, staring at Jean kneeling above him. Pale hands were buried in Marco's hair, tugging and smoothing it out of his face while Jean leaned down again and again to place wet little kisses all over his flushed face and throat and along his collarbone and shoulders.  
It still seemed surreal, having this man like this, but the skin beneath his fingertips felt warm and real where he dipped them under the dark shirt, the shifting muscles in his back alive and powerful, the swell of that ass – still clad in a tight pair of jeans – supple and round.  
Marco was still a little nervous, a little unsure, but the ever growing arousal was starting to drown out anything except for that burning, seething _want_ crawling deep in his gut.

The way Jean moved against him, a steady, subtle roll to his hips that brought their crotches together in a delicious rub, rough material of his jean's scraping against the sensitive skin of Marco's exposed dick … it only made things worse. He was already pawing at every inch of that man he could reach, but this slow burn had him grabbing that fine ass, fingers digging in hard as he pulled those hips closer, faster, changed their pace into a heated rut that had Jean moaning and falling forward onto his chest. He quickly propped himself up on his elbows, caging Marco in like this but he didn't mind. This was closer, he could feel Jean's hot breath puffing against his lips as they stared at each other, grinning.

“Yeah, just like that, big boy...”, Jean sighed, tugging at his hair more insistently now. “Knew there was more to you than a pretty face...” He moaned again, letting Marco have this for a while longer before carefully shimmying his hips out of Marco's grasp and pulling back.  
Before Marco had a chance to protest he shut him up with a hot kiss and murmured against his lips:  
“Wanna take your pants off, okay?” Marco groaned, nodding quickly. Their rough movements had started to chafe him a little, actually. But he hadn't noticed until Jean stopped.

“Yeah … yes. Please...”  
The next moment Jean was already sliding down his body again, looking up at him and winking before grabbing the hem of his pants and briefs, then pulling them down to his thighs with a few hard tugs. He leaned down to place a kiss that was way too innocent against his dick.  
“Awwww”, Jean then cooed, inspecting Marco. “Poor pretty cock got roughed up a little bit … looks like I'll have to be extra careful when I'm fucking myself on it...”  
There was a grin to his voice but the way he said those words, all innocent with a little singsong lull to them … it made Marco gasp, hips twitching. Jean shot a dirty grin up at him before soothing his tongue over the sore spots in tiny little kitten licks.

“G-god Jeeean...” This was too much. That feigned innocence and playful touch didn't match the dirty words but the combination made Marco's cock throb nonetheless. A pearly drop of precome escaped him and was quickly lapped up by Jean's clever tongue. Another grin, a low chuckle, then he wrestled Marco's pants and underwear off all the way, tugging his socks off as well and throwing everything off the bed.

A wave of self-consciousness crashed over Marco at that, at lying there spread out and completely bare in front of the still mostly dressed Jean Kirschtein. He didn't exactly look put together anymore, with the disheveled hair, kiss swollen lips and obvious erection pressing against his zipper. But he still looked more confident and in control than Marco had felt in his whole life, crooked grin and everything.  
With the self-consciousness came the nervousness, Marco felt his heart slam against his ribs harder, not with excitement but with nerves and he made a move to cover himself.  
But the attempt died along with everything that had been drowning him a second before when Jean touched him again. It was just a small gesture, a careful hand at his hip accompanied with a warm smile, but the effect it had on him was evident. All the racing thoughts and insecurities left him with a deep sigh as he sank back into the pillow, eyes on Jean's face.

The other man was still smiling when he moved his hand to slide it up along Marco's side, over his ribs and throat until he leaned forward to cup his cheek.  
“Don't be embarrassed. You're gorgeous, Marco. So beautiful.” When Jean dragged his thumb over Marco's lips he opened his mouth and sucked it in without a second thought. It was practically a reflex. Jean let out a breathy chuckle, moving his thumb against Marco's tongue for a while before pulling it back out.  
  
“Here, I'll take these off, too...”  
The way he stripped was fast and efficient but still incredibly sexy. How his muscles stretched taut when he pulled the shirt over his head, the shimmy to his hips when he eased out of these amazingly tight jeans... It didn't take him long at all to get rid off his clothes completely and kneel back over Marco again, their crotches dangerously close once more.

“Soooo”, Jean practically purred as he leaned down, catching Marco's lips in a light but sensual kiss. He then held up several little foil packets that looked like lube and a strip of condoms. “You wanna finger me open or should I?”

A nervous laugh left Marco at the directness of that question, hands scrabbling up to find hold on the other man's shoulders. His mind was temporarily wiped blank by the prospect of actually sliding his fingers into Jean fucking Kirschtein so he blurted out the first thing that came to him.  
“You're uh … suspiciously prepared...”  
Jean chuckled again at that, kissing his cheek, then the tip of his nose.  
“Well duh. I was a boyscout once, you know?” He wiggled down into Marco's lap, sliding their cocks together and making them both moan. “Snatched them … snatched them from the glove compartment after you got out of the car...”  
Well, that did make sense. Another wiggle, another deliciously slow slide. The heat rose up in Marco's gut once more and with that his mind was set.  
“Gimme that”, he breathed, taking one of the little foil packets and ripping it open with trembling fingers.  
  
Way too much lube spilled out and he ended up getting it all over both hands but it didn't matter because Jean decided that moment was perfect to slide down and mold the whole line of his lean, hot body against Marco's. He ended up with his head on Marco's shoulder, arms raised to play with his dark hair again, ass drawing enticing little circles, sliding their dicks together once more. Looking down his body from this perspective, all sharp shoulder blades and hard muscles and supple ass, it was like a religious experience

“God … oh god...” Marco moved to grab that perfect ass again, smearing lube over those round globes before slowly, carefully sliding his fingers between them. He felt Jean's breath hitch when he found the tight pucker there and proceeded to rub the very tip of his index finger against it.  
“'S okay...”, he heard Jean slur next to his ear, voice husky and breath hot. “C'mon, it's fine. I'll tell you if you need to stop but … do something, yeah?”  
  
Marco did not have the capacity to deny that request right now. He rubbed a little harder, a little more insistently, until the tip of his finger slipped into Jean's incredibly hot, tight heat. If it felt like that around a single finger, how would it...  
Marco screwed his eyes shut, trying not to think about that, now was not the time. Now he needed to pay attention to Jean's heavier breaths and tiny mewls and gasps as he started a gentle thrusting motion, sinking his finger deeper and deeper until it was buried to the knuckle. Jean started to move against him as he kept thrusting as deep as he could, moans spilling from lips that where still pressed close to Marco's ear.

“Yeah, god yes, that's … ugh, Marco … more. Gimme … hmmm...” Those breaths where without a doubt the most erotic sounds he'd ever heard and he obeyed quickly.  
  
He needed some more time to get the second finger in quite as deep, always carefully listening to Jean's responses and adding more lube from his other hand. But Jean didn't move to stop him once, not even when he added a third finger along with even more lube. The only reactions he got were increasingly loud pants and moans along with hard tugs on his hair and an insistent roll to those hips that tried to match his thrusts.  
When Jean propped himself up onto his elbows to look down at Marco his face was beautifully flushed, eyebrows drawn together and mouth open, moans spilling from those soft lips. He crushed their mouths together in a kiss that was as rough and possessive as they got, tongue swirling out to tease against Marco's, then catching his bottom lip between sharp teeth.  
He let go again when Marco's finger seemed to strike something inside him and his whole body shuddered and convulsed, a high pitched whimper escaping him.  
  
“Okay that's … ugh!” He fell forward on another deep thrust, smushing their cheeks together and breathing hotly into Marco's hair. “That's enough”, he tried again, his body wiggling in Marco's arms. “It's okay, 'm ready. Wanna have you now.”  
And how could Marco ever refuse that? He carefully pulled his finger's out of Jean, wiping the excess lube on the cheap motel sheets the same moment that Jean reached for the strip of condoms, opening one of the shiny squares. He sat up, scooting back a little to roll the condom over Marco's dick who moaned at the touch.  
He'd waited so long with a constantly moving Jean rubbing against his crotch … he needed this as much as Jean did. Still panting heavily Jean ripped open another packet of lube and spread a hefty amount over Marco's erection. It was slippery and warm, the loose ring of Jean's hand just perfect but Marco grit his teeth and waited. Waited for Jean to get into position above him, hold Marco's dick steady against his entrance before winking one last time and sinking down, down, all the way down in one long, smooth motion.

When Jean came to rest against his hips, head tipped back and eyes closed, Marco forgot how to breathe. The feeling alone, being enveloped by tight, wet heat like this, was enough to knock the last bits of air out of his lungs.  
But that image.  
He didn't have the chance to admire Jean's body in detail before. Now that he was perching atop him like this, open and vulnerable with his heaving chest and light sheen of sweat covering his skin, Marco couldn't look away.  
He'd seen Jean shirtless before, in a music video his sister had shown him months ago. He was just as pale now as he had been then but slightly more toned. The muscles in his stomach and chest were more pronounced, little shifts in them obvious as he tried to keep his balance, curve of his throat long and exposed.  
The hair trailing down from his navel to his flushed, straining dick was light and wispy, just a shade darker than the longer parts of his undercut. Other than that he was shaven, a few dark stubbles coming through again just above his cock. Marco didn't mind that imperfection, was thankful for it in fact. It was such a tiny detail but it made Jean more real, more human and less of an untouchable rock legend.  
  
A shift of Jean's hips commanded his attention, eyes flicking up to meet those amber eyes, mouth falling open on a silent moan. Jean wore his lopsided grin again, a mischievous spark to his expression.  
“Just ... nnnhhhhh...” He moved his hips in a slow, sensual circling motion that just about drove Marco insane. Then he stopped again. “Just gimme a minute … I need...”

Yes. Yes, of course. At this moment Marco'd have given him anything.  
Not because he was a famous, charismatic, hot as all hell rockstar. That was only one part of the equation.  
The other part, and that was indefinitely more important, was that this right here … it felt real. Not at all like a dirty, random hook-up in some cheap motel. No. It was honest and open, the way Jean talked to him, touched him, _looked_ at him. He'd been nothing but charming and considerate of Marco's feelings and boundaries all this time and not once made him feel like he was being used. Marco would curse himself later for letting this get to him as much, for interpreting Jean's kindness as true interest and this whole thing as anything else than just another fuck. But at this very moment all he wanted was to enjoy that connection he felt, whether it was actually there or not, and lose himself in the fantasy that this was just the beginning.  
  
He was not prepared for the moment Jean began to move. Mainly because he didn't start with some timid thrusts to test the waters and get used to the feeling some more. No, Jean Kirschtein practically threw himself into riding Marco with everything he got as soon as he was ready. The sudden intensity pulled a strangled cry right from Marco's chest, his hands reaching up blindly to grasp Jean's hips in support.  
For the first few minutes he could do nothing but hang on, staring at the other man in disbelief and desperate gratitude while he fucked himself hard on Marco's dick. As promised.  
That grin never left his face, turned a little more smug when his lips parted to let out heavy pants. Jean didn't slow down, though. On the contrary. He tilted forward a bit, hands clutching Marco's shoulders in support as he sped up the pace even more, moving impossibly faster, taking him deeper, all the while grinning, grinning like a very happy maniac.

After some time like this, Jean still going strong, Marco scraped enough self control together to place his feet firmly onto the bed. He needed more leverage for this. Then he tightened his grip on Jean's hips, controlling the range of his movements a little more like this, and started meeting that crazy rhythm with deep thrusts of his own.

It sent Jean _screaming_. He still didn't falter for a second but his beautiful eyes got all incredulous and huge as he stared down at Marco, mouth hanging open, screaming and moaning and whimpering, grin gone for now.

Marco couldn't help his own smirk as he put as much strength as he could behind his thrusts, bouncing Jean up and down on his cock.  
This was, by far, the roughest he'd ever gotten during sex, never daring as much. But Jean had started it, he had to know what he could take. Besides, it was fucking amazing. Being able to give it all he got, really let go for once and just plain fuck someone into oblivion.  
It even seemed to work. Jean's movements got weaker over time, his moans and screams more breathy until he slumped forward, placing his elbows against Marco's chest and just letting him have it. He started to babble after a few more thrusts, snippets of sentences Marco only caught half of but the way Jean's breath hitched with every thrust was hot and adorable all at once and he never wanted it to end.

“O-o-oohhhh ye-yeeees! M-m-aar-c-coooo...” and more eloquent things like “Hnnnnn, ye-yeahh … jus … just like tha-hat” mixing together, his voice pitching higher as he got closer to orgasm. Marco was pretty close himself, had been for quite a while now but just grit his teeth, thought of unsexy things and powered through it. But he wouldn't last for much longer.  
He was as relieved as confused when he filtered the weak “Sto-stop M-marco, stop!” out of the babbling. His thrusts came to an abrupt halt as he stilled his hips, one hand coming up to Jean's cheek to tilt his head upward so he could look at him. He was flushed a deep shade of red, eyes unfocused and lips glistening and Marco had to keep himself from kissing him.

“Everything okay?”, he rasped, voice hoarse from moans he hadn't even noticed slipping out. Jean nodded weakly, nuzzling into his palm.

“Yeah. Yeah, fantastic actually. I just wanna...”, he took a breath, then swallowed, tracing his eyes down Marco's body in what seemed like consideration. “Wanna come in that position, think you're strong enough to pull it off...” It wasn't a question but an assessment. “It like … starts in reverse cowboy and then I lean back against your chest so I'm kinda … on top of you. And I can pull my legs up when you're fucking me and it's just really...” He swallowed again. “Really hot...” How he was still able to talk that eloquently Marco had no idea but that sounded real good. Theoretically.  
  
“I … don't know how long I can … like, hold you like that...?” Jean grinned, then let out a breathy chuckle.  
“Oh, don't worry … I won't last long...” With that he pressed a heated kiss against Marco's lips, tongue flicking out briefly before he sat up and moved to turn around already.  
“Good, good...”, Marco mumbled, trying to support Jean while he moved. “Me neither...”  
The view he had when Jean got into position was practically obscene. He could see everything, the lube shimmering everywhere, how his dick was stretching Jean's swollen, red rim open, how they were connected so deeply...  
  
“Ready?” Jean waited for his reassuring hum before carefully lowering himself. Marco helped guide him and tried to hold him up until Jean was resting against him, back to chest. They wiggled around a little, Marco moving his feet and tilting his hips, Jean sliding lower until they had found the perfect position.  
It pressed Marco even deeper into the other man and he could easily touch him everywhere like this. Jean tipped his head up and to the side until he could mouth at Marco's jaw, nibbling a little, then pulling his knees to his chest and grabbing them with his hands. It put more weight on Marco's chest, all of it, to be exact. But he could manage for a while. At least until he'd made the both of them come.

“Hmmm, kiss me...”, Jean breathed against his skin and Marco obliged, tilting his face to the side so he could catch Jean's lips with his own.  
He gave no warning before he started moving again, thrusts not as fast as before but just as hard and even deeper now. He could also reach Jean's prostate easier like this, only needed a few tries before he found it and kept angling his hips like that for each thrust.  
It had Jean shuddering atop him, moaning and mewling, but this time he swallowed all the noises, one hand in his neck to keep him close.  
  
They both didn't need long. Not when Marco was hitting Jean's sweet spot with almost every thrust, not when his free hand kept roaming over that gorgeous, lean body until it curled tightly around his cock.  
Jean screamed at that, letting go of one leg to throw his arm up and fist his hand in Marco's hair again. The tugging was a little on the painful side but it was just right like this, just what he needed to keep going. Hips still pistoning upward as he stroked Jean's cock that was soaked with precome by now he desperately tried not to come, not before Jean did, but he didn't have to hold out for much longer.  
Two, three thrusts later Jean wailed, body tight and shivering, convulsing, as he caught Marco's lip with his teeth and bit down hard, drawing blood as the waves of orgasm came crashing down over the both of them.  
  
Marco's head was reeling. He'd never come as hard as he did now, vision whitening out as his whole world melted into snippets of sensation, the sharp tug at his hair, the burn in his splitting lip and protesting thighs, the ecstatic rush of release as he bucked up into Jean's contracting heat again and again and again until the ringing in his ears died down and he slumped back into the bed.

They kept breathing each other in for a while longer, trading soft kisses and tired smiles, before Jean sat up again, carefully sliding Marco out of himself.

Marco wasn't conscious enough to know what happened next, he thought that maybe Jean might've wiped him down with a wet cloth or something but he wasn't sure. The only thing he knew was that Jean joined him in bed a little while later, pulling the covers over both of them and snuggling close. He didn't even have the capacity to think how weird it was to discover that Jean Kirschtein was a post-coital cuddler. They traded some more kisses, soft, light ones that lingered just a little too long each time.  
Then they both drifted off into sleep.  
  
  
When Marco awoke it was almost dawn. He needed some time to remember where he was, he didn't recognize this room. At all. But when he turned around to check who was spooning him from behind, one arm casually thrown over his hip, the memories came crushing back.

His walk across the highway, the driver, the driver turning out to be Jean Kirschtein, the phone call, the motel, the by far hottest fuck of his life...

Marco felt nausea rise from deep within him as well as another strange emotion that set heavy in his chest. He'd been so stupid. So damn stupid. How many people had fallen for that kind of charade? How many pants had Kirschtein charmed off with exactly that scam? Hell, he probably didn't even need a scam most of the time. He just had to show his face and panties were dropping everywhere.  
And there Marco had been, feeling some mysterious _connection_ and dreaming about the _what ifs_ when everything Kirschtein had wanted was a good hard fuck and a quick goodbye.

Marco liked to think he'd delivered on the first part. Time to make good on the second.

He managed to crawl out of bed and get dresses without any trouble. The only time the sleeping man behind him stirred was when Marco pulled open the door and dared to look back for a second.  
Kirschtein looked absolutely, breathtakingly gorgeous like this. Hair a disaster, face flushed from sleep, blanket slipping down his chest and revealing a sliver of pale skin...

Marco swallowed. This man had no use for him anymore. What was he anyway. Jean Kirschtein was a fucking rockstar. He could have anyone. Why should he want Marco for anything but a dirty hook-up in a cheap motel? They were done.  
Marco pulled the door shut with a shuddering breath and an inexplicable sting to his chest.  
  
  
  
Alessia Bodt had just finished up her homework for this week when she heard her phone vibrate. It took her some time to find it.  
She'd shoved it somewhere into the depth and chaos of her desk drawer hours ago, determined to not let it distract her from her maths problems and biology essay, but she was allowed to retrieve it now. Maybe it was her best friend, Emma, she'd promised to call about hanging out later that evening.  
  
Shoving notebooks and pencils aside Alessia spotted the sneaky thing just behind her old spectacle case, display lighting up and buzzing impatiently. When she reached for it and saw no caller ID, her mouth went dry.  
Usually nobody but her friends and family called her and the last time this happened had been about a month ago when Jean Kirschtein had given her a call. She swallowed at that thought. But it couldn't be him again, could it? A 104 Reasons was recording an album right now, he should be way too busy to be bothered with her again.

The phone kept vibrating insistently and even though her fingers started trembling, she accepted the call and held it up to her ear with a shaking hand.  
  
“A-alessia Bodt?” Her voice was way too high, she needed to calm down if she didn't want this to get even more embarrassing.  
“Heeey, how's my little lady doing? It's me...” The low drawl of that very familiar voice sent her heartbeat into a wild staccato against her ribs and the sudden urge to scream overcame her. She didn't know whether it was nerves or joy. Probably both. The clarification “You know, Jean...” wasn't needed but made the tremble in her hands even worse.

“H-hey Jean...”, was the best answer she managed at that moment. Her inability to take chances was just ridiculous.  
“You still in school, not taking drugs or anything?” God he sounded so damn cool. It was like his voice was the acoustic equivalent of taking a walk through the misty woods at night, wearing nothing but jeans and a t-shirt and sunglasses. Or maybe she got that from her favorite music video. He just looked way too sexy in that one... After a few seconds of drifting thoughts she remembered she'd been asked a question and rushed to answer.  
  
“I … no, I mean, yes, I mean … s-still in school, not … not taking drugs...”  
“Good, that's what I wanna hear. 'm proud of you, sweetheart”, his deep voice chuckled. The praise made her head spin, even though his voice sounded slightly distorted over the cheap speaker of her phone. She'd never wanted a newer one quite as much as in this very moment. Except for maybe a month ago when they first talked.  
“T-thanks!” It was nothing more but an awkward shriek. Alessia wanted to bite off her tongue. But then she wouldn't be able to talk to Jean.  
Breathe. Just breathe. She reminded herself, sinking deeper into her desk chair. She could do this. She'd done it once already. If only her stupid heart would stop beating as rapidly...

“The reason I'm calling...”, Jean started. “I believe we have unfinished business?”  
“We do?”, she blurted out, still a pitch too high but at least not shrieking anymore.  
“Yeah. I promised to give your brother an autograph for you but I didn't. I'm sorry.” He sounded strange saying that, different. Not as carefree anymore. Just like when an interview went really well and then the reporter asked a question he wasn't quite comfortable with. Alessia didn't know what had happened but it was enough to make her comfort-instincts kick in. She didn't like it when someone was sad and it didn't matter whether the other person was a close friend or a rockstar twice her age whom she worshipped endlessly. She'd at least try to help, that was just who she was.

"What, n-no … it's okay! You didn't have to, you called me, that's enough! I'm … thank you, but you don't...”  
  
“If there's one thing I always do, it's keeping my promises”, Jean said, still strangely serious behind the fake chipper tone. Maybe she wouldn't have noticed that if she hadn't been as obsessed with the guy and how he expressed himself. But she was. And it worried her. “I'd like to drop by, give you your autograph myself, as an apology, you know. Hell, you can invite some friends, if you wanna. You'll all get one, it's gonna be awesome!”

“What?” Okay, that was lot to take in. Jean Kirschtein had just offered to visit her at home, if she understood that correctly. But not only that, he wanted her to get some friends together, so they could all meet him. That was … drastic. Considering he owed her absolutely nothing, promise or not. And as much as she just wanted to squeal and screech at that, the way Jean was almost babbling confused her. Was he … nervous?

“Yeah, I'll just come over! But only if that's alright with your parents? And with your...” She heard him take a deep breath during that tiny pause. “With your brother? I actually … I wanted to talk to him, too? About … something.” Alessia furrowed her brows, standing up now to start pacing her room. There was more to this. Oh, she didn't doubt Jean's sincerity when he said he wanted to keep his promise. But what had that to do with Marco? Her heart was still hammering away like crazy when she tried to understand just what was happening right now.  
“But I don't even know if he wants to, I mean … I mean he just kinda ran off? After we met?”

“What do you mean, he ran off?” That didn't sound like Marco at all. Jean had picked him up when his car had broken down and he didn't have a phone with him to call a mechanic. Marco would never disregard that kindness and disappear without properly thanking him...

“I don't know, he just … did. I wanna ask him what happened. But I didn't know how, he didn't give me his number and you're all I got, so … Not that I don't wanna keep my promise, I do! I'm not using you to get to your brother, but I...”

“Oh. My. God”, Alessia breathed when this finally, finally began to make sense. It all fell into place now, Marco's unwillingness to tell her more about his encounter with her idol, no matter how much she pestered him, Jean's general awkwardness when they started talking about her brother, that he said Marco just _left_ without as much as a thank you or goodbye...  
“You had sex with him!”, she exclaimed, maybe a little too loud considering Marco's room was just down the corridor and her sister Julietta was next door.

“What? No. No, that's … totally not what happened. That's … ridiculous...”  
“God, you're a horrible liar, you so did!” Twenty minutes ago she'd have rather died than talking like that to Jean Kirschtein. But twenty minutes ago she hadn't known that Jean Kirschtein had slept with her big brother. Goddammit, she was so proud!  
“You did and then he disappeared without giving you his number and that hurt your pride and now you're calling me to check if he hates you or not...!”

The dead silence on the other side of the line betrayed him before his muttered “Maybe...” could. Oh, this was priceless. Alessia wished she could tell Emma. But she wouldn't. That would be so uncool of her.  
When Jean talked again his voice was small and careful. At least the fake cheerfulness was gone.  
“Sooo, do you think he does? Hate me, I mean...”

Alessia plopped down on her bed, leaning back into the pillows and shook her head.  
“Naaahhh. He started listening to your music. He didn't before, but some of my CDs went missing and I can hear it sometimes, late at night. Gosh, he's so dramatic about it, gets all jumpy when you ask him...” She heard a low hum over the line and continued:

“So I guess you could try to talk to him. But he's only here for two more weeks, then he's off to college again.”  
“I think I can manage that...” There was amusement to his voice now, maybe he was even grinning, wherever he was right now. “But uh … which state do you even live in?”  
  
  
It had been over a month since his encounter with Jean Kirschtein and Marco still wasn't over it. How should he even start to forget what happened? How could he not develop an embarrassing crush and start pining after a damn rockstar like he was fifteen years old all over again? He couldn't even talk to anyone about it.  
All his friends were at home until the new semester started and he couldn't risk Alessia overhearing _that_ conversation on skype. Suffering in silence it was.  
  
He had just started to get the situation a little under control – meaning the wet dreams about the amazing sex they had only came once or twice a week by now instead of every damn night – as the universe decided to throw his mind, emotions and libido right back into chaos.  
When he came home from his shift at a local bookstore one Friday afternoon and heard the strumming of a guitar from the living room, he expected it was Julietta practicing. What he found upon entering, though, made him freeze right there in the doorway.  
It was Jean Kirschtein. And he was still there after Marco had blinked a few times and bitten the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste a metallic tang of blood.

He was just casually sitting there, a beat-up acoustic guitar perched on his knee and six teenagers littered around him on the floor, the couch and the little coffee table. But oh, he wasn't just randomly plucking some chords. He was singing, soft and beautiful, sound wafting through the room like fog, like the wild, fiery smoke he smelled of. The nuances of his scent had carved themselves absurdly deep into Marco's memory.  
It was surreal, ridiculously so, just seeing him in their living room like he _belonged_ there. He didn't. But the sight made Marco's chest ache nonetheless.  
Jean's voice trailed off as he stopped playing and grinned apologetically.  
“I haven't got the solo down, Connie's way better at this than I am...”  
  
The teenagers around him protested, some of them loudly, but those noises just faded away when Jean looked up and straight into Marco's eyes. For a few heartbeats all they did was look at each other before Jean's grin melted into a soft smile and he handed his guitar to Julietta without even breaking eye contact.

“I'mma go say hello to my friend Marco but I'll be back soon. Don't you run away!” The teenagers giggled and nodded but Jean didn't even wait for their reaction before he was at the doorway, placing one of his hands on Marco's shoulder to steer him into the hall, using the other to shut the door.  
  
“Okay, I know this must seem crazy”, he began, smile a little mischievous by now. “I'll explain later. But right now I want to talk to you. Nothing else, just … talk. If you want.”  
Marco was completely dumbfounded. He didn't know what to say, what to do. So he simply nodded and headed for the stairs. It seemed best to take this to his room. Whatever Jean wanted to talk about, his sisters and their guests should probably not hear them. Let alone his parents...  
He locked the door behind them, just to be sure, before he pulled out the desk chair for Jean and sat down on the bed himself. Being alone in a room with Jean was already hard enough. If they both sat on the bed he might just completely lose his composure and ravish the man.

Luckily Jean got the hint and let himself fall into the squeaky chair, rolling a little forward so they could look at each other. Marco still didn't need to know what to say. He could hardly imagine why Jean was even here, let alone what he wanted to talk about. Maybe something had happened. Maybe paparazzi had taken pictures of them together and published them? Okay, he'd have noticed that, there hadn't been a big scandal. But what if he did something wrong? What if Jean was in trouble because of him? Marco would never be able to forgive himself if...

“Okay, so...” Jean interrupted his racing thoughts. He was leaning forward now, folded hands hanging between his parted knees. “Why did you leave?”  
That … was unexpected. It confused Marco enough to practically shock him into an answer.

“What … I mean, shouldn't I? It was … a one night stand? Just … sex, right? Weren't we … done?” He'd taken so long to make himself believe that, to let go of his pathetic fantasies and forget how his stupid heart had burned at every touch of the man. If only he'd tried harder, maybe his words would've sounded more convincing.  
Jean's brows furrowed as he cocked his head to the side.  
  
“No. No, we were not _done_ , stupid!” It sounded exasperated and maybe a bit amused, Jean laughed, a dry, disbelieving sound, before he went on. “For starters, you didn't even give me your damn number!”

“...what?” To be honest, Marco hadn't even considered that option. He'd never once thought that maybe Jean wanted to keep in touch after they finished. Should he have? That sounded...  
“Your number! God Marco, you don't just fuck a guy like that and leave! Call me crazy, but...” Jean shrugged, sliding a little closer in the chair. His eyes looked so big and deep in the warm light of Marco's room. So honestly confused and curious. “There was something there, right? Some kind of thing … connection … whatever...”

Marco needed a minute to process this new information. Apparently he'd spent a month talking himself out of thinking Jean had felt remotely the same when the whole time he hadn't been imagining things? He wasn't even mad. Those were fantastic news! He opened his mouth, ready to tell Jean exactly that, in one form or another, when he was interrupted:  
“And don't you dare lie to me! I know you've been pining for me, your sister told me everything, she's a little tattletale! You started listening to my stuff and think you're sneaky about it! And you sometimes hum my ballads over breakfast when you think no one's listening.”

Hot embarrassment overcame Marco at those words, flooded his limbs and rose into his cheeks at feeling as exposed in front of his crush. Jean was never supposed to find out about that. He was never supposed to even talk to him again … but here he was, babbling away, and it was hard to be mad at his sister when it seemed to be her who'd brought him back to Marco.  
  
“God you're adorable when you blush … oh, you do that a lot, too! You smile and blush and then act like nothing's happened!”  
“Jean...”  
“No! Don't tell me it was just sex when you know every word of Broken Wings and sing Rebirth in the shower and...”  
“Jean!”  
“...have that picture of me in your nightstand, the one from the shoot in the rain where I'm – ”  
  
Well that was enough for now. Cheeks still flaming Marco practically threw himself off the bed and right into Jean's arms, winding his arms around his neck and shutting him up effectively by pressing their mouths together.  
They stayed like that for a while, both too shocked to move, before Marco pulled back, blinking quickly.  
“I get it. No assuming you're not interested anymore”, he breathed against Jean's lips, a soft smile playing around his own. Jean chuckled, arms snaking around Marco's waist to pull him closer.  
“Damn right”, he said, rubbing their noses together in an unexpectedly sweet gesture of fondness. “How about it? We go grab some dinner later, my treat. And if you run off again without giving me your number, I'll set your sister on you. Plus, I know where you live now, so...”  
  
“Okay, okay!”, Marco laughed. This was more than he'd ever bargained for. This was a real chance to actually _get to know Jean_. “Dinner, number. Anything else?”  
Jean hummed thoughtfully, nudging their noses together again while he dragged one hand up Marco's back and threaded his fingers through dark hair. It was only a light tug but it made Marco tip his head back nonetheless, exposing his throat for the other man to mouth at.  
“I don't wanna desecrate your childhood bed. But maybe you could fuck me in my car? The backseat is pretty spacy...”  
Marco moaned at that, already feeling something in his pants stir at the thought.  
“I was hoping you'd say that...”  
It took them a while to get back down into the living room after that.


End file.
